The -Khuan- Account: Pt. 1
by Senshi Rohnan
Summary: The Bugs have arrived. A Farseer falls. The Battle is thickening.


The Khuan Account – pt 1  
  
  
  
* Setting the Battle Field for Bai *  
  
  
  
The cool morning breeze that blew through the air that morning, was something I will never forget. That morning that almost everything was lost. Lost to a threat to great to ever be stopped. The threat that advances with the speed of Anti-Grav Technology, but without engines. The power of it when it hits, hitting hard, can tear threw even the toughest of Terminator Armour, far be it from me to ever think of wearing such mockery armour, but the thought still stands. The wave of blue, red, and crimson; the smell of dried blood side-by-side with fresh blood, flowing sleek figures in the night, the sounds, their cries rattle your soul. They were coming, and there was no stopping them. All I could do was grab my blade, strap my spear to my back, and hope for the best.  
  
I went out that day, so long ago, unbenounced to me that I would never return the same. At least, not the same as I was when I stepped out of my room.  
  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
"Sir! Battle-Field General Khuan has been wounded on the eastern flank!"  
  
The Seer turned, and looks down at the young Guardian. "I see." Turning suddenly, the eyes of his mask suddenly glowing a bright yellow, then returning to their normal color. Off in the distance to where he gaze was set, a huge storm of psychotic energy cloud leapt up from the ground, engulfing everything around it. Turning back to the young warrior, he retorted, "Well…what am I to do about it? What is their flank status? Are they holding out fine over there? That flank had all the Spiders, they should be doing fine. What happened?"  
  
"The Guardian turned the Com-Link on in his helmet, relaying the question to the east flank. A few nods of his head was all the Seer could see, then the Guardian turned back to the towering, anxious Farseer. His faceplate of one having a blood tear on it under the right eye, glinted suddenly in the Farseer's eye, a sudden horrible vision clouded over his mind for a moment.  
  
"Sir, the enemy has become something over there. It seems, we are fighting the small wave, the lesser ones. Where as, as I was just told, the bigger infestation is boiling over. Our Catapults and Cannons over here are all that is needed, but they need heavier support over there! There is just too many big ones!"  
  
The crackling voice threw his helmet sounded shaky. Something else was over there, the Seer could feel it in the Guardians voice.  
  
"Hold on a moment. Tell the east flank that we can spare as much as we can. Maybe a Distort Battery, but that might take at least ten minutes to arrive over there, even at the fastest speed-"  
  
A sudden blast of radiant energy flew overhead. A WraithLord was coming around a Tower, and its huge shoulder mounted Star Cannon was in constant reload. The Wraithbone face seemed to glance down at the Farseer and his Guardians, but then returned its gaze forward, to the enemy.  
  
"Go, dispatch the battery to the eastern flank! Go NOW!" The Seer pushing on the shoulder of the Guardian, who immediately shouldered his Shuriken Catapult, and ran off to the Distort Battery that lay on a hill above them a few meters. The crew members already awaiting his approach.  
  
His decision was done, turning back to wave in front of him he nodded toward his unit. "Fire…Do not stop firing until nothing moves down there that isn't our brothers and sisters……Fire…FIRE!……..FIRE!!"  
  
Thrusting his right hand forward, and turning it palm up, he erupted a storm of energy into the blue and red wave…flesh, blood and claws fling everywhere. Screams in the dark wave followed, then were silenced, the returning roar of fire, screams, and battle filling in the momentary gap. Never was there any thought of silence. No.  
  
"Sir! GET DOWN!" A stray Guardians voice called.  
  
A shard of super hot corrosive venom flew by the Farseer, smashing into the bunker base behind him, a mere few feet from him. Whirling he ducked for cover, only to fall cracking his face plate clean open, exposing his already rotting face. 


End file.
